Purple
by ReillyJade
Summary: One year following his imprisonment, Sirius speaks to the one he misses most. The memories are endless. He remembers the good, the bad, and everything in between. He remembers lost dreams. He remembers purple. It's such a beautiful color.


_DISCLAIMER:_ All of the places and characters in this story belong to the genius Ms. J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made from this story. It only serves to (hopefully) entertain_._

Rated T for implied violence, sensuality, and a couple of naughty words.

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_**-Purple-**_

_Such a beautiful color  
You wear upon your skin  
And the perfect shade of purple  
On a flower permanent_

I still think about our time at Hogwarts, you know. Remember the night of our sorting? More specifically, remember how you already hated me by the end of our first dinner as Gryffindors? Honestly, I didn't mean to knock down that goblet of pumpkin juice and get it all over your brand new robes. It was an accident, I promise, though I will say I'm really sorry for laughing about it with James rather than offering to help clean it up. I'll admit that was rude.

I guess when I think about it, I really shouldn't have gotten mad at you when you set fire to my books in Charms class the following week. I've been meaning to ask – was that intentional? It did seem oddly convenient that the spark you created hit my stuff, even though I was nowhere near you in the classroom. Either way, I kind of deserved it, didn't I?

I never told you this, but even when we were being two silly kids ruining each other's homework, tripping each other in the corridors, and going out of our way to make one another miserable, I still thought you were nice. I was proud to call you my fellow Gryffindor. I'm glad we were finally able to knock it off with the nonsense in fourth year and actually become friends. We can thank James and Lily for that.

Do you think we would have become so close if it hadn't been for them? I know we only started talking because they'd both become somewhat of a common enemy for us thanks to their nonstop bickering, but I still think we would have gotten over our differences eventually. Differences... is that even the right word? No, I think stubbornness, immaturity, and stupidity all work better, because we really weren't that different at all.

It was perfect timing when we started becoming friendly; it was for me, at least. It was so refreshing to have someone other than the guys to talk to about everything. Mind you, I loved my friends, but they could be a bit ridiculous sometimes. (Ha, I say that as if I weren't ridiculous, too.) You were the first person – the only person, actually – I told when my father took a few swings at me over Christmas break that year. I tried to tell you those bruises and the black eye were from attempting Quidditch, but you saw right through me. You were the only one who did.

You were the first and only person I told when I was in love with Remus. I know now that I wasn't _really_ in love with him, just smitten, but it felt like the end of the world at the time. You listened and didn't judge me.

You were the first person I confessed to about my plans for leaving home. Although I had every intention of staying with James when the time came, I told you before I even told him. You didn't try to discourage me, but instead said you trusted me to make the right decision.

You were the first and only person I cried in front of since I was a young child. You didn't laugh at me; you held my hand and stayed with me until the demons went away.

And you were the first person I wrote to when I finally left my parents' house. The best part? You wrote back right away, telling me how happy you were that I finally felt free.

So many things were going through my head during those years, things I could have never talked about seriously with the guys most of the time. Did I ever tell you thanks for being there? Thanks for listening, for caring? I hope I did. If not, I'm telling you now. Thank you, thank you, _thank you_. You really saved me, you know.

When I think about all of that, it seems like my time at Hogwarts was nothing but bad, but that's not true at all. I don't want you to think that, because aside from those incidents in our first couple of years, we really did have some fantastic times together at school. Remember the snowball fight in Hogsmeade? I certainly do. It's hard to forget laughing so hard from getting repeatedly pelted in the face with snow by a whacky Scottish gal. The hot chocolate afterward in the Three Broomsticks was nice. Sorry for spilling some on you; I swear, I didn't mean to. At least I offered you a napkin that time.

Oh, and that time at the Quidditch match, sixth year! The one when Dorcas tripped up the stairs and got the bloodiest nose we'd ever seen, remember? Aside from that, it was a magnificent day. Not only did James, Emmeline, and the rest of the team kick Slytherin's arse, but it was the first time we'd seen sunshine in weeks. Your hair was really sleek and shiny-looking because of it. I'm pretty sure that was the first time I started to see you as a girl, not just my friend who happened to be a girl.

I remember subtly coercing Remus and Lily to tells us their route for prefect rounds so we could sneak out onto the grounds without getting caught. Sure, we had a couple of close calls, but it was all worth it, right? We had so many laughs, shared so many secrets. I taught you how to fly a broom. You taught me how to swim. We taught each other how to have fun, how to enjoy the simple things, how to _live_. I still wonder if I would have ever known that – that feeling of invincibility, of anything being possible – if it hadn't been for you.

_And I'm constantly reminded  
Of a past that never bloomed.  
As I sit behind these bars,  
Only silence fills the room._

Even after leaving school, I was happy. I had you. I had James and Lily, Remus and Peter, Emmeline and Dorcas. Growing up, I never thought I'd have friends, but I left school with much more than that. I left school with a family, a _real_ family, and we created so many special memories. Walking out of Hogwarts for the final time, with your hand in my left and Remus' in my right, was surreal yet exciting. Signing up for the Order as a group felt like we were finally living up to our Gryffindor name. Apparating to visit each other at the flats we all paid for ourselves was that last bit of freedom we'd all been waiting for, and it felt spectacular. Nor more curfews, no more house points... it was all we'd ever wanted, right?

That's what I thought, anyway, until the night of James and Lily's wedding.

I know the proper thing to do at weddings is to look at the bride as she's walking down the aisle, but I didn't. I looked at _you_. I stood there on the altar beside James, mesmerized by the sight of you gliding behind Lily in that royal purple dress that hugged you in all the right places. I loved the way the silk gently swished around your hips and how your hair bounced slightly with each step you took. Did I ever tell you how beautiful you looked that night?

I know the other proper thing to do at weddings is actually pay attention, but I didn't do that, either. As you stood beside Lily, holding her flowers in addition to your own, I could tell you were hearing every word, but I only half-listened as the little wizard from the Ministry rattled on about eternal love and whatnot. Instead, as much as I adored the purple on you, I imagined you were wearing white and standing a little closer to me, the way Lily was standing so close to James. I imagined your flowers in Lily's care while your delicate hands rested in mine. I imagined your light eyes locked on my dark ones, smiling along with your lips and filled to the brim with tears of joy, of love.

And it wasn't until James and Lily shared their first kiss as husband and wife when I realized that I wasn't just imagining it; I _wanted_ it. I wanted what they had, and I wanted it with you.

The events that followed only fueled it further. Remember when we danced together? My God, that was amazing. You smelled so good, of sweet lavender and vanilla, and you were so, so warm. We'd hugged many times before, of course, but I'd never had my hands so low on your waist. You'd never rested your head on my shoulder that way. The violet silk was so smooth against my calloused hands and I wanted nothing more than for you to let me hold you all night long.

Remember when we were sitting on a bench, sharing a generous slice of the wedding cake and sipping wine? I swear on my life I didn't mean to get any on you, and I definitely wasn't laughing because I made a mess; I was laughing because I couldn't help but wonder if the reason I'd been spilling stuff on you all those years was because you made me nervous. You were certainly making me nervous that night. Maybe you were that day in Hogsmeade, too. And maybe, just maybe, I was so anxious about sitting next to a cute girl my first night at Hogwarts, that that's what made me so jittery. I'm sorry I didn't use my wand right away to help you clean it, but I really just wanted an excuse to touch your dress again. That's why I fetched a napkin.

But my favorite part of the whole night was when we walked together through the field toward the trees to get away from the crowd for a little while. Remember that? The sun had long since disappeared and our duties as best man and maid of honor were fulfilled. You were carrying your shoes so I couldn't grab your hand like I wanted to, but we were walking close enough together that I was dizzy with joy. There was a chill in the air and you visibly shivered. You were adamant about not taking my coat when I offered it to you, but I slipped it over your shoulders when you eventually caved in and accepted.

Even though it swallowed your petite frame, I very much liked the sight of you in my jacket. It suited you.

Then in the distance, a lively song started to play, and you exclaimed that you loved it, dropped your shoes, and ran a little ahead of me. Actually, you didn't run – you danced. You spun and twirled and swayed, and you looked stunning doing it. You looked so blissful, so full of life, and without a care in the world. I'm so glad I silently summoned my camera and got a candid shot of you dancing, arms in the air and bare feet grazing the soft grass. My black jacket on your shoulders, purple silk swirling around your body, a look of pure enchantment on your face... beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

That was when I started believing angels were real.

You danced all the way to the woods, and I simply followed, grinning like an proper idiot. When your song was over, it was you who kissed me, so softly and timidly before pulling back and attempting to apologize. I silenced you with my lips, pulling you close and relishing in how such a simple act could make me feel as if I were both flying and falling at the same time. I'd kissed girls in the past and I'd kissed boys, but I'd never felt that. Not once. I'll never forget it, just like I'll never forget how pretty you looked in the moonlight, skin glowing, wrapped up in both purple silk and me as we spent the night together in the plush grass, beneath the trees and stars, wondering if anyone else but us had ever experienced such heaven on earth.

_I've never been down this road before.  
As the days go by, I only miss you more.  
I thought one day we would touch the sky -  
Never grow up, never gonna die,_

All I thought about after that night was the future, and for the first time ever, it wasn't filled with uncertainty and concern; it was filled with _you._ Every choice I made, everything I wished for, everything I dreamed of was done with you in mind. I can't even begin to explain how much of a change that was for me, caring so much about someone other than myself for once. But don't worry – it was a very welcome change. I liked constantly having you in my thoughts.

Did I ever tell you about that really wonderful dream I had one night? If I remember correctly, it wasn't long after James and Lily welcomed Harry into the world. In the dream, we were living together in a cozy cottage in the country. You were wearing a ring, so I think we were married. We had a little daughter, about three or four years old, and my goodness, she was beautiful. She had both your spunk and your grace, and she even had your smile, but I think she looked like me.

We are all so happy together in that dream. I _knew_ we could make it a reality, especially after that night we had our first adventure in babysitting. Remember that? I'll admit I was nervous about spending the whole night with Harry without James and Lily there, but we did alright. It was actually a lot of fun. He was about eight or nine months old and we spent the whole evening playing with him, laughing with him, and holding him. It was you who rocked him to sleep. I watched you from the doorway as you cradled him closely to you, swaying gently back and forth and softly singing to him in that lovely Aberdeen accent of yours. It was such a sweet, tender moment, one that had me envisioning it happening again with our own child. We could have been good parents, I think.

I kept those thoughts with me from then on. The idea of us sharing a life was with me at every Order meeting; it was my inspiration to carry on fighting - fighting for a future for me and you. I wanted that, and I was so sure we'd get it. I promised myself I would get that peace and harmony for you.

I should have done more. Maybe if I had, they wouldn't have won. If I'd done just a little bit more, maybe they wouldn't have taken you away from me...

I didn't understand at first. Everything had been right there in front of us, so clear, so reachable. I wanted to marry you, share that cottage with you, have children with you, have _a life_ with you. We were supposed to spend our lives side by side, waking up with each other every morning, growing old together. We were supposed to be _happy._ Did we not deserve that? Were we not worthy? It simply didn't make sense.

I brought purple flowers to your funeral. I held them close to me for a long time, staring down at the polished rock bearing your beautiful name. The dates below it killed me. Twenty-one years. Nothing more.

It just wasn't enough time.

I'd never even told you how important you were to me. Never told you how much I valued your friendship, your kindness, your wisdom.

And though I told you many times that I loved you, I don't think you ever knew just how much.

_I never realized what you meant to me  
Until I tried drowning out your memory.  
But it burns red, like it's not over.  
It only hurts when I'm sober._

I took to the bottle; it tasted better than agony and regret. It helped me forget that I'd failed you, failed _us._

I couldn't bring myself to go to James and Lily's for Harry's first birthday; it was just too soon. They understood and didn't object. Instead, I sent him his present via owl post. According to Lily, he absolutely loved it, and why wouldn't he? He was only a year old and so blissfully unaware of the fact that you were gone. Your parents, brothers, and sister were gone. Dorcas was gone. Harry didn't know that. He could still smile, laugh, and enjoy being alive.

I couldn't believe I was envious of a baby. I wished I could once again be merry and carefree as he was. I wanted that innocence back. I wanted to go back to when the world made sense; it was nothing more than an empty shell without you in it.

Those bastards ruined my life. It was bad enough they took you, but then they went ahead and took James and Lily. In a way, they took Harry, too, because I never saw him again after that.

And Peter... fucking tosser. Thanks to him, I'm sitting here in this putrid cell, shivering and frail with no one to believe me. He _framed_ me. Why does no one believe me? God, even Remus doesn't believe me. That hurts. One of my best friends won't even speak on my behalf. A year's gone by, so I'm beginning to lose hope that he ever will.

Would you have believed me? If you were still here, would you have defended me? You somehow knew me and understood me better than most, so I think you would have. I _really_ hope you would have, because I swear to you, I didn't do it. I didn't kill them. _I swear._

Your picture is the only thing that brings me any bit of joy. Yes, I still have it – the one of you dancing in the field on the night of the wedding. It's the only personal item I was able to sneak in. It's a little worn and the color is fading slightly, but it's still beautiful to me. I keep it tucked under my pathetic excuse for a pillow, but I take it out often. Every time I look at it, I remember you and all of the amazing moments we shared, and it reminds me that beyond this cell, beyond these moldy walls, there's still beauty in the world – beauty I will never see again.

And then I remember you're gone. You're never coming back.

You'll never save me from this place. No one will.

I've been sentenced for life. I'll die here. I'll never again see the sun, the moon, the stars. I'll never again know friendship or love. I'll never again feel smooth purple silk against my fingertips. I can still spill a drink, but if I do, it will be onto a rotten prison floor, not onto the lap of someone I deeply admire. I'll never again feel like I'm both flying and falling in the midst of a tender kiss.

All hope for me is lost. It was lost the moment you were taken from me, because after the night of the wedding, you were my life. And now all I have is a photo of you, beautiful you, in that purple dress and my black coat. And I have these ragged Azkaban clothes. I have a barred window that's too high up to look out of. And I have my mind, but I anticipate slowly losing that as the months and years wear on.

The world betrayed me. All I tried to do was good for it, and it turned its back on me, throwing me to the curb like I'm nothing but a useless piece of trash.

And I do feel like that sometimes because I wasn't there to save you.

Maybe I deserve this. Maybe I really am nothing. It's how I'm treated. It's how I feel.

I can only hope that one day, when we meet again, you'll forgive me. My sweet Marlene, my angel, please forgive me. I'm so, _so_ sorry.

And know that even on my darkest of days, I'll never stop loving you. I'll die with your photograph in my hand, and the last thing I'll see before the lights go out for good will be the most beautiful color in the world wrapped around the most extraordinary person I've ever had the fortune of knowing. You, my love.

_It only hurts when it's over._

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**Author's**** Note: **The song lyrics laced throughout this were from Pop Evil's "Purple." They're beautiful words, but they aren't mine.

A wonderful artist at TDA has been kind enough to create both a stunning banner and chapter image for this story! The links to both are on my profile page, and you should definitely check them out because they're truly beautiful. :)

This was written for Round 2 of dimitrisgirl18's Diagon Alley Fic Crawl, as well as SnarkyAndProudHufflepuff's Under-Appreciated Pairing Challenge.

Much thanks to maggalina, toujours belle, and Someone aka Me for their help with this piece.

Thanks for reading! :)


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